


My Mandalorian

by Kadla



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Armitage Hux Needs A Hug, Armitage Hux-centric, Feels, Fluff and Smut, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mandalorian Culture, Mandalorian Culture (SWTOR), Mando'a, Oral Sex, POV Armitage Hux, POV First Person, Real World References, Romance, Submissive Armitage Hux
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:42:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25037197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kadla/pseuds/Kadla
Summary: A steamy and romantic encounter between Armitage Hux and his Mandalorian bodyguard told from Hux's perspective.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17





	My Mandalorian

He comes at night, my Mandalorian. The strangest thing about our encounters is his gentleness. I had assumed, when we first met, that he would be the type to be rough, and that our encounters would be frenzied tumbles. They aren't like that, he’s not like that - he cuddles me and holds me, speaks softly, and treats me with the sure but gentle touch I’ve always dreamed of, but never had. I hear his voice in my ear as his warm hands encircle my waist.  
'Armitage,' he breathes in my ear and I feel myself smiling.  
I hate my name… _except_ when he says and it sends shivers up my spine. His odd accent is like nothing I've heard anywhere else, part Imperial and something else that he says is from speaking more Mando'a than Basic growing up.  
I moan quietly and turn to look at him. He's smiling, his mouth quirked into the smirk that made me hate him when we met. Sarcastic and baiting, I thought at the time, but I've learned it’s something wholly different.  
'No helmet, Mando?'  
He rolls his eyes and the smirk becomes a proper smile, 'I hide nothing from my General.'  
I know it's a half-truth, he wasn't raised in the modern Mandalorian traditions of keeping the helmet on at all times. His being somewhat antiquated has its benefits in this case, however in public he keeps up the ruse of the modern. Being the only one who gets to see his face brings out the possessive side of me, it adds an extra exclusivity to our relationship that I've never experienced before. I’m his General. His.

I lean in and kiss his lips, he tastes like citrus and comfort and all the things I've been lacking all my life. We stay like this for a while, kissing and touching, reminding each other of our true selves, the people we are when we’re like this. He’s so close and warm and this feels so intimate, an intimacy not just of physical pleasure but of words, and selves that we don’t have during the hours I’m on duty.  
It is still something I’m getting used to, the idea of being my genuine self, of being naked with someone, and I don’t mean without my uniform. I mean without the mask I have worn most of my life, where I’m my genuine self, not Cadet Hux, useless brat, or even General Hux. Here I’m Armitage, his General, his cyare. Cyare, it means “beloved” in Mando’a. Beloved. It’s something I never thought I’d be to anyone. Yet, here I am. In his arms, being myself, and realising that there is more to me than who I am when I’m on duty, more to me than my job. I’ve never seen a life for me that didn’t include the First Order, but now in this shared space, our space, I think of nothing else. Of being his completely, out in the open, holding hands and being more than I am now. A friend once told me that “sometimes less is more”, I never really understood that phrase until I felt this.

His lips explore my throat and his fingers barely ghost over my nipples. I’m on my back, with one of his legs between mine. He’s hard, very hard, we both are, but he keeps to his soft, gentle pace. I always let him have his way with this. Sometimes I think it might be fun to see his rougher, more feral side. I have outside of this room, in our other life. But in here, he is so gentle with me. He never rushes, and he never lets me rush. Often, the first few times, I was impatient to get to the fucking, but he wouldn’t have it. He found my submissive side and is so in control he won’t let me rush. I would say it’s maddening, but I would be lying if I didn’t find his control, his focus and his skill extremely flattering. He thinks I’m worth his time. I’ve never thought I was worth anyone’s. It makes me love him more that he sees my impatience and won’t give into it, no matter how aroused, no matter how wanting his body. Yet I can’t help myself, I huff into his shoulder, ‘Must you be so slow?’  
‘Must _you_ be so impatient?’  
‘You’re here to fuck me aren’t you?’  
He pulls back and looks at me, ‘I’m not going to be baited into losing my temper with you, cyare. Stop trying to push me.’  
‘Runi, I….’  
He gives me a look, ‘I like fucking you, I like you fucking me. But I’m not here FOR that. I’m here for you. All of you. If you need reassurance, you could just ask me.’  
I furrow my brow, he reads me like a book every time. It’s both annoying as hell and attractive. I capture his lips in a kiss, sliding my tongue into his mouth, and he rewards me with a moan that makes my cock ache for him. I can’t help myself, I rut up against his hip, needing the friction, and he sucks my tongue making me moan harder my body increasingly lost to the pleasure. Oh my...his lips find that spot on my neck, just behind ears, the one that leaves me both breathless and whimpering for more. I feel his lips smiling again, as they trail down my chest, licking over my abdomen before he takes me in his mouth.  
‘Runi…..’ it’s a barely audible whisper, almost a prayer, as he takes me deeper.  
The warmth of his mouth and the strength of his hands on my hips allow me to relax finally, even as my hands grip the sheets of my bed.

I look down and meet his eyes as his luscious lips move over my cock. He releases my hips and I thrust slowly into his mouth, wanting to make it last, draw it out. I know my breathing is uneven and it’s not long before I am pressing my head back into my pillow, gasping and chanting alor’ad over and over. It means ‘captain’, but he knows when I say it, I’m saying “I love you”. It is our secret code for our other life, but I like it in here too. He is my dominant, but “master” felt wrong, it shows my submission, but also my love and it is the most precious thing I have. My secret gift to him outside these walls, but in here, given openly without hesitation. I fall into garbled nonsense as I come so hard it feels like my eyes are going to pop out of my head. I feel him cleaning off my cock and then he’s next to me for the inevitable breakdown. 

As the clouds of euphoria clear, they seem to drive a signal through the most secret and broken part of me, and I find myself sobbing uncontrollably. The first time it happened I had a panic attack too, but we have been together long enough that he now expects this. The tears well up and I hear him turning on the ambient rain sounds on my bedroom speakers. His strong arms come around me and hold me close as I curl in on myself and sob and sob. He rubs my back gently. I feel like I’m falling, but even as I tumble, he is there repeating the words of Marcus Aurelius, which he taught me:  
‘Be like the promontory against which the waves continually break, but it stands firm and tames the fury of the water around it.’  
Eventually I start repeating them with him and the feeling recedes slowly. I look up at him, all embarrassing and messy in my vulnerability. 

He smiles and wipes the tears from my face, ‘You’re beautiful, Armitage.’  
I feel myself blushing, ‘I…’  
‘You’re beautiful,’ he repeats more firmly, in his alor’ad voice, and it stills my inner demon telling me I’m not worthy of compliments like that. Too weak, too frail, too pathetic for love. Yet when he says it, I believe.  
He holds me again and my hand wanders south, ‘What about you?’  
‘Only if you’re up to it,’ he replies.  
I huff indignantly, as if ready to argue, but he looks at me and it melts me completely washing away even the traces of affront. I kiss him hard on the mouth, and push him onto his back. He complies, watching me in all my fervour to please him. As I take him in my mouth I feel his soft on harden fully again, tasting his precome as I slide my tongue and lips down his shaft. He moans and I look up at him, watching him watching me. I love the attention and the sounds he makes, deep throaty moans that sound so masculine and sexy to me. I could never tire of this. Of feeling his cock in my mouth, of his pleasure belonging to me just as the rest of him does. I concentrate on his frenulum, pulling back his foreskin a little to expose the sensitive underside as I suck him harder.  
‘Oh yes, cyare, yes,’ he manages in broken syllables as he edges closer.  
Within minutes he’s an incoherent mess completely under my control and I’m swallowing his come painting my insides as his, which thrills me as much as making him feel this way. Once I’ve cleaned his cock, I crawl up to him and he pulls me close, spooning against my back. I snuggle in close.  
‘I love you Runi.’  
He squeezes me tighter for a moment, ‘I love you too, Armitage.’  
We fall asleep like that, snuggled in together.

When I wake up, he’s not in bed but I hear the sounds of banging in the kitchen. I smile and put on a robe, walking to the breakfast bar as he whirls around the space like a tornado. He smiles at me, ‘Good morning cyare.’  
‘Good morning. What is it this morning?’  
‘It’s eggs and croissants,’ he puts a cup of tea in front of me, very dark with a splash of milk.  
I smile, it’s my favourite. He hums to himself shaking his hips as he finishes off breakfast and slides the plate in front of me.  
This is us at our most domestic, one of us cooking and the other watching. Tomorrow it’ll be my turn to cook. It was a stroke of genius, in my humble opinion, to have Runi move into the other room in my quarters. I had argued my bodyguard needed to stay close at all times, as I was required to have one, but I digress, that’s a much longer story.  
Once breakfast is finished, with the kisses and feeding each other and closeness, we shower together and dress. I watch him put on the beskar, it takes time and is almost a meditative process, which I enjoy, despite the fact I’ll be counting down the minutes until I can see those beautiful brown eyes again.  
He holsters his blaster and the helmet looks at me. I nod once, jamming one fist in another behind my back and we exit our sanctuary. As we walk down the hall of the Finalizer, the mask comes up. I am not just his General anymore. I am General Armitage Hux of the First Order, and he is my bodyguard and closest confidante; a Hephaestion to my Alexander. A friendship and intimacy that defined them both that Aristotle, their teacher, described as “one soul abiding in two bodies”. The thought of it makes my heart bloom, as we head onto the bridge, and even behind his impassive helmet I know he feels it too.  


**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write something with an original char with a traditional SWTOR Mando background. I am thinking of writing a much longer fiction about them, but I guess I wanted to gauge if anyone was going to read it first.


End file.
